


2038

by Assassin_J



Category: Assassin's Creed, [PROTOTYPE]
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Death, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 17:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12709311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assassin_J/pseuds/Assassin_J
Summary: Writember Day 11 & 12 - "Time" and "Forgive"For a long time afterward, Alex couldn't forgive himself, though his family and friends told him it wasn't his fault and there was nothing to forgive.





	2038

**Author's Note:**

> is this canon to Replication-verse? well, maybe parts of it are >:)c

Alex cursed himself. If he'd been faster to take down those Templars, Desmond wouldn't have gotten injured. But he'd taken too much time making sure their grandchildren were out of harm's way before he joined the battle taking place. And then he'd gotten _too_ into the fight, taken too much time smacking and beating the enemies' faces in after they were down, not noticing anything else.

And now Desmond was injured; badly injured. "No, no, fuck, Desmond, no!" Alex grasped his husband's blood-soaked collar.

Desmond coughed, more blood splurting from the wound in his neck.

Alex pressed a flat tendril against the jagged slash, trying to hold back the tide. "Hold on, you'll be fine!"

Desmond opened his mouth and was trying to speak.

"Don't talk," Alex said, sliding his arms and more tendrils underneath Desmond, starting to lift him up.

But Desmond cried out in great pain at the movement.

"Shit!" Alex quickly set him down again. "Ragland! Desmond's hurt!" he cried out, powerful voice shaking the walls.

Thumping footsteps came, slower than Alex would have liked but as fast as the old doc could manage.

Alex crumpled beside Desmond on the floor and began sobbing without tears. "It's my fault, it's my fault, I said we'd be fine while they were away, I said I could protect us-"

"The only f-fault," Desmond said through a couple more coughs, "lies with the Templars that did this." His voice was weak and watery.

Dr. Ragland arrived, panting, and Alex moved aside just enough to let him check Desmond over.

"Damn, it doesn't sound good," Dr. Ragland said with his stethoscope to the man's chest. "Blood in the lungs, and a lot of it."

"Fix it, Ragland, you've got to fix it!"

"Right, hold on-" He began digging through his kit.

"Hurry!"

"Right!" He pulled out a bottle of antimicrobial fluid, tore away Desmond's shirt and poured a large amount across his battered chest. "Des, brace yourself, I don't have time for anesthesia."

Desmond's only movements were in his pained face; the rest of his body very still.

Dr. Ragland stabbed a large tube between Desmond's ribs. Goopy blood began flowing slowly out of it, pooling on the floor.

"All right, you're going to be all right, Des," Alex said, wiping a spatter of blood off Desmond's cheek.

"I'm not," Desmond said croakily. "I- I didn't feel that at all. My spine-"

"Shut up!" Alex said. "You can't die! I need more time with you!"

"W-we had 25 great years," Desmond managed to say.

"No! No, you have to stay with us!" Emotions overwhelming him, Alex shoved his palms over his face. "Deon and Casey aren't even here! They deserve to say goodbye, but they're off on that damn mission!"

"They know I love them," Desmond said, then coughed again, more blood coming up. "M'sorry, I... I wanna stick around too, but this- this is it."

During this conversation, Dr. Ragland had been furiously first-aiding the best he could, but now he sighed. "I think he's right, Alex. There's nothing more I can do; it's a miracle he's still even talking."

"What about Nicky and David and Jean!? What do I say to them?!"

"They're safe, right?" Desmond fought for another breath while Alex gave a sad nod. "O- okay then. Tell 'em Grandaddy went-" he coughed again, more wetly, a huge blot of blood spilling from the surgical tube.

"Desmond, no." Alex laid his head to the man's chest. The familiar steady strong heartbeat was no longer steady, no longer strong. "Desmond, no."

"Tell 'em I went down keeping the bad guys away." Desmond coughed again. "Hey, look at me."

Alex could hardly bear to do it, but he did, he looked at Desmond, whose face was draining to pale.

"I love you."

"I'm sorry, it's my fault!" Alex sobbed again. "I took too much time-"

"No- no, you can't-" another hacking cough- "Don't say that. I love you. You've been the light of my life, for a quarter century."

Alex pulled him half-upright into a hug, and this time Desmond didn't cry out with pain. "I love you, Desmond," he said, holding him tight, trying to find comfort in the man's warmth one last time before it ended.

Desmond said nothing more. He sniffled, and hummed a noise in his torn throat, and kissed the spot above Alex's ear, and then... then he was gone.


End file.
